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NINE.
The supper party was only a few hours away, and Gwen still couldn't decide whether to wear the rose-pink dress or the lemon-yellow one. She liked them both.
"Oh, Cleo. Hurry up." She checked the clock on her dresser. "You were supposed to be here by now."
A voice called to her from the front of the house. "Halloo."
Oh, mercy. It was her nosy next-door neighbor, Edna Updike. The worst gossip in town. Such a difficult woman, and one who could talk for hours without seeming to draw a breath. Gwen didn't have time to deal with her now. She shouldn't have left her door open, despite wanting to let in the fresh air.
"Miss Arlington. Are you there? Halloo."
Patience. Give me patience. She took a quick breath, put a smile on her face, and left the bedroom. She took a quick breath, put a smile on her face, and left the bedroom.
Edna had her forehead pressed against the screen as she peered into the house. When she saw Gwen, she said, "Oh, good. You are at home. I was hoping to speak to you."
"How are you, Mrs. Updike?"
"My rheumatism's been acting up lately, but I'm well enough for a woman my age."
Gwen waited for her neighbor to take two steps back, then pushed on the frame of the screen door to open it. "Won't you come in?"
"Thank you." She breezed past Gwen. "It really is fine weather we're enjoying, isn't it? I was telling Mr. Updike this morning that I don't remember a prettier May in all the years we've lived in Bethlehem Springs. Of course, you haven't lived here near as long as we have, but don't you think this is the finest May ever?"
"Indeed."
Edna plopped her plump form onto the sofa. "Did you know our Lady had her pups this week? Five of them. That's a large litter for a small dog. I thought at first the littlest wouldn't survive, but she seems to have enough milk now and they're all thriving, including the runt." She looked around the parlor. "This really is the most pleasant room, Miss Arlington. You have quite the flair for decorating. So appealing."
"Thank you." Gwen sank onto a chair. "What is it you wished to speak to me about?"
"Why, the newspaper, of course. What else?"
"Oh." She resisted the urge to sigh.
"You surely are not serious about this election nonsense, Miss Arlington. Goodness, dear child. Being mayor is not a proper vocation for a woman, especially not a young, unmarried one such as yourself. Surely your father did not know you intended to do this or he would have forbidden you to consider it."
"Yes, Mrs. Updike. My father did know. As a matter of fact, he encouraged me."
Edna clucked her tongue. "I declare. And what of your minister? He has undoubtedly advised you to withdraw."
"No." Gwen shook her head. "He has not."
"Then Reverend Rawlings has forgotten his duty as a man of the cloth. He should remind you that women are never to have authority over men. The Bible says so. Women are not equipped to a.s.sume leaders.h.i.+p roles. We are the weaker vessels, after all."
Gwen quelled her irritation. Her neighbor was in her late sixties, set in her ways, and unlikely to change her mind about anything. "Mrs. Updike, I know you mean well. Truly, I do. I appreciate your concern. But the Bible has several examples of women who held authority. What about Miriam, the sister of Moses, and also Deborah, who was a judge? Isn't a judge a little like a mayor?" She smiled to soften her words.
"That's the Old Testament," Edna responded, accenting the words with a harrumph harrumph at the end. "Christians live under the new covenant." at the end. "Christians live under the new covenant."
"Then what about Priscilla and Phoebe? They were leaders in the early church. I believe when women are called the 'weaker vessel,' it means our physical strength, not that we are inferior." She leaned forward. "It isn't my wish to be argumentative, Mrs. Updike, but I was taught we must never use one verse of Scripture out of context from the whole."
Edna gave her a cool stare. "Miss Arlington, you are more like your sister than I suspected." She stood. "You shall regret this. Mark my words. It will be your ruination. No man of good standing will look upon you with favor." She wagged her finger at Gwen. "Your Mr. Benson will soon look elsewhere for a bride if you persist in your current way."
"Since he is not my my Mr. Benson, he is free to look wherever he wishes. I do not intend to marry. Not him or any other man. I don't intend to surrender the freedoms I enjoy as a single woman. Too many men in this world want a servant, not an equal partner. They don't want someone who can walk beside them rather than behind." Gwen's temper grew hotter with each word. "And I'm delighted to know that you think I'm like Cleo. There's no one I admire more than my sister." Mr. Benson, he is free to look wherever he wishes. I do not intend to marry. Not him or any other man. I don't intend to surrender the freedoms I enjoy as a single woman. Too many men in this world want a servant, not an equal partner. They don't want someone who can walk beside them rather than behind." Gwen's temper grew hotter with each word. "And I'm delighted to know that you think I'm like Cleo. There's no one I admire more than my sister."
From the parlor doorway came Cleo's hoot of laughter. "Now there's something I don't hear every day."
Edna sputtered something about tending to the puppies and hurried out without a word of good-bye to Gwen or a word of greeting to Cleo. Rather than rise and follow her neighbor, Gwen covered her face with her hands and released a groan.
Wry amus.e.m.e.nt laced Cleo's voice. "I take it Mrs. Updike isn't thrilled about you running for mayor."
"I'm doomed to spinsterhood because of it." Gwen lowered her hands. "And possibly risking my salvation."
Cleo snorted. "Gwennie, given you're a Presbyterian and of the Calvinist persuasion, you can't possibly believe that."
Despite herself, Gwen smiled. Cleo had an uncanny way of knowing just what to say to make her feel better.
"Now, what're you doing just sitting there? Don't you have a party to get ready for and an election to win?"
"Yes, I do."
"Then let's get to it, sis. Times a wastin'."
Cleo urged Gwen toward her bedroom much as she would herd cows into a corral. Once Gwen was seated at her dressing table, Cleo plucked the pins from her hair until it cascaded down her back. "Guess who I rode into town with." She began stroking Gwen's hair with the brush. "Morgan McKinley."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. He's had a hard time believing we're twins, just like most folks do."
Gwen met her sister's gaze in the mirror, wondering what else he'd said to her.
"Before we parted company, he asked if I was going to the Carter s.h.i.+ndig with you." Cleo grunted. "As if you could drag me to something like that."
"All you would need is a new evening frock and - "
"Gwennie, haven't you learned by this time that you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear?"
Gwen grabbed her sister by the hand and twisted on the dressing stool to look at her. "Don't say such things about yourself. You are not not a sow's ear." a sow's ear."
"Maybe not." Cleo smiled gently. "But I don't belong with the Carters and their like either. It's not just that I don't belong. I don't want want to belong. I like who I am." to belong. I like who I am."
Gwen sighed. "I envy you, Cleo. You're so sure of who you are and what you want to do. I wish I was more like you."
"Poppyc.o.c.k. You're already who you want to be. I just heard you saying so to Mrs. Updike. You're just nervous about tonight. That's all."
Cleo took Gwen by the shoulders and turned her to face the mirror again. "Now let's get your hair fixed or you'll never get to that party on time."
Gwen knew everyone seated around the long table in Harrison and Susannah Carter's dining room - the Daily Herald's Daily Herald's Nathan Patterson and his wife, Christina; Samuel Benson, owner of the Pine Company sawmill, his wife, Flora, and their son, Charles, who was seated to Gwen's right; Jedidiah Winston, the Crow County sheriff, and his unmarried daughter, Rose; Mike O'Rourke of the Golden Gorge Mining Company; Reverend Walter Rawlings; Mayor Thaddeus Hopkins; and the four other county commissioners along with their wives. All sixteen present were dressed to the nines. Nathan Patterson and his wife, Christina; Samuel Benson, owner of the Pine Company sawmill, his wife, Flora, and their son, Charles, who was seated to Gwen's right; Jedidiah Winston, the Crow County sheriff, and his unmarried daughter, Rose; Mike O'Rourke of the Golden Gorge Mining Company; Reverend Walter Rawlings; Mayor Thaddeus Hopkins; and the four other county commissioners along with their wives. All sixteen present were dressed to the nines.
As the party dined on rainbow trout, roasted potatoes, creamed vegetables, and a chocolate confection for dessert, a three-piece orchestra - violin, cello, and harp - played softly in a nearby room. Overhead, a chandelier glittered, its glory reflected in the gold-rimmed china and fine crystal goblets. Black-and-white uniformed servants saw to the guests' every need.
Charles leaned near to Gwen. "You are a surprising woman, Miss Arlington. I had no idea you had political aspirations."
"I surprised myself in that regard, Mr. Benson."
"Please allow me to a.s.sist you in any way I can." He spoke in a husky voice, implying some sort of intimacy between them.
Why must he do that? It was actions such as this one that had made her neighbor refer to Charles as "your Mr. Benson." It was actions such as this one that had made her neighbor refer to Charles as "your Mr. Benson."
She lifted her water goblet and took a sip before answering him. "That's very kind of you. Of course, there isn't much to do, other than convince voters I'm the right candidate, and that is something I must do myself." She gave him a smile, hoping it looked genuine. "Isn't it?" Without waiting for Charles's response, Gwen turned to her left and said to her host, "Thank you again for doing this, Mr. Carter."
"I'm pleased to do so. Tattersall isn't qualified, and since I'm quite unhappy with that resort McKinley is building, I couldn't very well support him."
She hadn't known Harrison opposed the resort. "Why is that, Mr. Carter?"
"I don't believe it will be good for Bethlehem Springs."
She recalled Morgan's response to a similar question. His answer had made sense to her - employment for many in the area and an influx of tourist trade for the businesses in town. Didn't everyone see the benefits of those things, even if they thought a resort would ultimately fail?
Before she could voice her thoughts, Harrison stood and tapped a knife against his water goblet. Ting... ting... ting... ting... Ting... ting... ting... ting... The room fell silent and all eyes turned toward the host. The room fell silent and all eyes turned toward the host.
"I would like to thank you all once again for coming tonight." He looked at each person as he spoke. "As you know, we have three candidates for the office of mayor of Bethlehem Springs. As you must also know by now, I have given my support to Miss Gwen Arlington." He applauded as he looked at Gwen. Everyone else followed suit. "I certainly hope you will join me, for the sake of our fair town, in seeing that she is elected."
With darkness blanketing Bethlehem Springs, Morgan leaned his shoulder against an awning post on the side porch and stared at Harrison Carter's mansion, located on an opposing hillside. Lights glowed from every window of the house, and music could be heard, even from a half mile away.
Morgan wondered if the guest of honor was enjoying herself. One thing was certain: she wouldn't be among strangers. Bethlehem Springs was not a large town. Most who lived here could call their neighbors' children by name and would have a fair idea of the personal business and romantic involvements of those they saw on the street. Townsfolk who didn't have small businesses of their own - dress shop, haberdashery, mercantile, shoe store, bank, feed store, law office, restaurants - worked at the sawmill to the south of town or in the sole remaining mine to the west. Even those who lived in the county on cattle ranches and small farms were well known because this was where they purchased supplies and went to church.
All of which meant Gwen was among friends. They would support her because she was one of them already.
Morgan pushed off the post, turned, and walked inside. Unlike the Carter mansion, few lights burned within these walls. Silence engulfed him.
Too silent. Too empty. Maybe he should invite his little sister to come stay with him again. Not that he thought Daphne would accept. She was having far too much fun traveling with their distant cousin.
It bothered him that Gwen had Harrison Carter's endors.e.m.e.nt. He couldn't shake the feeling that the commissioner wasn't all he tried to appear. Maybe Morgan was wrong, but his instincts were usually good ones.
As for Miss Arlington? He'd believed at first she was a beautiful woman who thought rather highly of herself. He'd had to readjust his opinion after reading her campaign piece in the paper. In fact, earlier in the week he'd perused the newspaper archives to better acquaint himself with matters of interest in the town. In doing so, he'd read quite a number of Gwen's columns. On paper, at least, she came across as intelligent, thoughtful, and caring.
But still beautiful. Still very beautiful.
He pictured Yvette Dutetre as he'd seen her during the days of their courts.h.i.+p and engagement. Tall and willowy, with amber eyes, light-brown hair, milk-white skin, and a flawless beauty that caused men to stop and stare, mouths gone dry. Morgan knew their response because he'd been just like them. Strolling with Yvette along the streets of Paris or entering a glittering ballroom with his fiancee on his arm had made him proud because he'd won her affections.
But what he hadn't seen - what he'd missed completely during their courts.h.i.+p and the months of their engagement - was that her beauty was only skin deep. While he'd been falling in love, she'd been plotting how to spend his family fortune while taking another man into her bed. Discovering the truth - just one week before their lavish wedding was set to take place - had been a rude awakening.
The memory of his narrow escape still gave him chills.
He'd stayed free of romantic entanglements since leaving Paris five years ago. His mother's worsening illness and their frequent travels had aided him in his determination not to fall victim to another pretty face. But his mother was gone, and he was putting down roots in Bethlehem Springs. He had best be on his guard. Now was not the time to let a woman - any woman - invade his thoughts.
Especially not the woman who might stand in the way of the successful completion of his resort.
Sheriff Winston leaned a shoulder against the fireplace mantel. "If you ask me, Governor Alexander is asking for trouble, pus.h.i.+ng to make Idaho a dry state. We'll need more officers all around the state if we're expected to enforce it."
"So you don't support the prohibition of alcohol?" Gwen asked.
"Sumptuary laws can be slippery things, Miss Arlington."
"But isn't public drunkenness a problem in many cities? And even here in our own small town?" Although neither of them mentioned Hiram Tattersall, Gwen felt certain the sheriff knew who was in her thoughts when she asked her question.
"Yes, we've had a few problems with it, but I'm still not convinced that the pa.s.sage of Prohibition is the answer. I guess we'll find out soon enough. The governor is a determined man, and I think we'll see the law pa.s.s before year's end." He took a sip of sherry from the gla.s.s he held in his hand. "And what about you, Miss Arlington? Where do you stand on the issue?"
Before Gwen could answer, Harrison Carter stepped to her side. "I'm sure that when she is mayor, Miss Arlington will seek counsel from those more experienced in such matters." He looked at her. "It isn't necessary for you to have an opinion of your own on everything."
Gwen swallowed the retort that sprang to her lips, determined not to be rude to her host. But it was aggravating that he hadn't given her a chance to respond to Sheriff Winston. She did did have an opinion about Prohibition. No doubt, she would have an opinion about anything and everything concerning town government once she was mayor. And she wouldn't be shy about sharing those opinions either. have an opinion about Prohibition. No doubt, she would have an opinion about anything and everything concerning town government once she was mayor. And she wouldn't be shy about sharing those opinions either.
Susannah Carter joined the threesome by the fireplace. Slipping her hand into the crook of her husband's arm, she leaned close to him. "Harrison," she said softly, "some of our guests are leaving."
Relief swept through Gwen. At last she could depart without insulting anyone. She looked at the mantel clock. "My goodness. I didn't know it was so late. It's almost midnight. I must go as well."
She followed her host and hostess to the front door and said good-bye to the other guests as they stepped into the night. Finally, only she and Charles Benson - who had insisted on accompanying her home in her buggy - remained.
After putting on her wrap, she turned toward Harrison and Susannah. "Thank you again for the lovely evening."
"It was our pleasure," Susannah replied.
"Indeed," Harrison said. "We want to do whatever it takes to make certain you are victorious."
"I'm grateful for your support." Then, although she hadn't realized it was even in the back of her mind, she said, "I hope we can talk soon about why you feel Mr. McKinley's resort won't be beneficial to Bethlehem Springs."
"Miss Arlington" - Harrison gave her a patient smile; it felt as if he was about to pat her on the head, like a good little girl - "I believe that's something else we can discuss after you're elected. Once you and I are working together to manage our town and county governments, I will be only too glad to help steer you through such matters. Certainly you needn't be concerned with it now." He turned toward Charles. "Thank you for offering to see our guest of honor home. It's good of you to do so."
Charles stepped to Gwen's side and placed the palm of his right hand under her left elbow. "It's my pleasure, sir."
Gwen felt as if she'd been brushed aside like a bothersome fly. Besides, she didn't want Harrison to steer her anywhere. She'd only wanted to know why he opposed the resort. It was a simple enough question, one that deserved an answer.
Charles said, "Are you ready, Miss Arlington?"
Somewhat reluctantly, she looked at her self-appointed escort. "Yes. I'm ready."
"Good night, Miss Arlington," Harrison said. "We'll talk again soon."
Charles escorted Gwen to her buggy and helped her onto the seat. As he walked around the rear of the buggy, Gwen turned her gaze toward the gentle, rolling hills on the north side of town. Up there, in the shadows of the night, was Morgan McKinley's home.
She wondered what his opinion on Prohibition was - and if others would listen when he chose to share it.